Deb and I are in Canada for Christmas. We’ve been snug in my parents warm house as a ferocious blizzard rages over Eastern Ontario. Though the house shakes, and roads are closed, our hearts are full of gratitude for being safe. Our kids are all in the basement, in a makeshift bunker. It reminded me of the subways and real bunkers our friends have hidden in during this past war.
It’s been a wild year, full of heartache, instability. Yet, throughout this year we’ve experienced the invitation of our loving Savior, the Shepherd of our souls. This invitation is beckoning us still as we look ahead, or attempt to look ahead to this coming year. Each year we reset in some ways. The calendar turns, and we look with anticipation. What will this year bring? What will my relationships look like, my workplace, my health?
The older I get, the less is taken for granted, and the deeper satisfying things become hoped for. I hope to be with those I love, to visit with friends torn away by war, to enjoy the sense of control that comes with planning more than a week in advance (not that this produces the joy we hope it does!).
New year, but the invitation from our loving Creator remains the same. It’s the same invitation that brings the satisfaction we long for. Contentment, a restful place of being loved, where our fears melt away and we release the clenched fist over things we hope to accomplish. The same invitation of intimacy, of surrender, and trust. The place of joining Jesus way, the way of the cross, passing through the death of temporal, fleeting things, our souls enlivened in fresh ways that aim past this life and grab hold of anchored things. I sense the invitation to trust, to look beyond the vision of my eyes, to respond to the compelling whisper and wink of the Spirit. I’m in, Lord, as much as I know how.
I want to know you more Lord, Jesus. The invitation has been sent out, the table is set. New year, same invitation.
(below is a 2 minute audio message that automatically plays if you scan the QR code with your phone. It’s on our new bookmarks, which we wil hand out to friends as we journey around the US and Canada on this trip).
It’s hard to believe that a year ago, our family had arrive in the US for the holidays, were settling into our new place in PA. The providence of God amazes me, humbles to think that without knowing, we were not just investing in a future space for our family, a home base for growing young adults and emerging grandchildren, but an immediate haven for our family as well.
Our new bread oven at Lighthouse Cafe – received this week! We are searching for a high power output generator to power it this winter / spring as we look to provide free bread to our town. A ministry that works with orphans swapped this industrial oven for our pizza oven – I’m finished with gas in Ukraine, such a corrupt system.
Now, as we prepare to return to the US again, this time from Romania, our hearts are filled with so many mixed emotions. We haven’t been ‘home’ in Ukraine as a family now for over a year. Boxes are being packed here, stored for the next few months as we head back over to the US and Canada to reconnect with family, recharge and consider what’s next for 2023. The day has been spent sending over funds to friends at Lighthouse, prepping for energy sustainability through the next few months as Russia continues to bombard the power grid, anticipating a crushing blow to the economy, ability to survive and political will of Ukrainians.
This week we ordered 10 beds for construction workers in Boradyanka who are continuing to repair houses so they can sleep near the sites.
This week, thanks to Dima and Slavik, the fireplace was installed at Lighthouse and is now crackling with heat! We have plenty of wood stored up and stacked for this winter, enough to share, and Lord willing more coming. We have 4 generators among our community, and have sent funds to help keep them running – Currently, they are needed upwards of 10hrs per day. Some days less, but I personally don’t believe we’ve seen the worst yet. Winter is here, suffering is now upon the vulnerable and we’re getting calls and requests now from friends in Kyiv to come to Romania to our refugee house.
Guys got creative and paid a utility truck to help finish off the top of the fireplace.
Families don’t want to be separated. Young families with kids, doing their best to hold on, nobody wants to be separated from husband and daddy to a foreign place, dependent on others, it’s miserable, frustrating, humbling. Instead of focusing on quantity of individuals helped, I am feeling peace to just really focus on blessing, deeply caring for a few families, some grandmas, and trying to do what we can do keep extended families together.
Club 180 meeting each week, now with a fireplace on the main floor to add to the pellet stove in the main room. Should be toasty now!
We’re excited to see our kids, they are all up north now, Broderic and Kristin with Byron at our house in PA with Tucker and Brent. Bronwyn is happily married up in Rochester with Logan, just a 3-4 hr drive away, which is so great. So we’ll be all together, near, and appreciating the freedom and safety of the US. Yet, daily, our friends, their needs, their safety, on my mind and heart. We have resources, thanks to the generosity of hundreds of people over this year, but money can only do so much, and I’m not about to throw it into the wind. In the end, the testimony of Christ in our town matters, the love of Jesus in the hearts of our friends is what will have lasting influence through this moment in history.
We hired students to cut, stack and prepare wood for winter.
Lighthouse, through the leadership of those still there, continues to offer free coffee, hot drinks, and snacks. The youth at Club 180 meets each Wednesday evening, now, thankfully by the fire! Believers are gathering for food and times of encouragement at our house each Saturday. They are leaning in to one another, being strengthened by the faith shared in suffering solidarity. It is suffering, lives upended, routines and what is ‘known’ has been calibrated to adapt to the whims of Russia’s terrorizing. Air raids, alarms blaring, folks have adapted, focused on making it through another day, feeding families, warming houses.
Some of the prepared wood in our mission building.
Today in prayer her in Cluj, I realize I don’t have a clue what is next, or how to prepare. We’ve done the best we can, I think. I wish I would have bought more generators when they were available.. but we just received a donation last week, just as Russia launched a devastating attacked which caused folks to rush and buy all available generators in country. I feel like it’s too late now, more attacks are coming, and Russia’s goal of crushing the people’s defiant will is here. How much does freedom cost? In western countries we’re forgetting the fierce power struggle throughout history when freedoms are given to a select few at the top. It costs thousands of lives, perhaps hundreds of thousands. It costs harsh winters, freezing homes without water or heat. It costs families torn apart, and death of loved ones you never got to say goodbye to. It costs trauma, and generations that will be impacted by the cycles of fear, sleeplessness, high blood pressure, and other mental anguish.
Ahhhhh – warms the heart! They now meet for prayer as well, warming the soul each week in the mornings as well.
I will go and enjoy my family, my undeserved freedom purchased by others. I will be among those that have forgotten the cost, and complaining about problems Ukrainians would give their lives to exchange for. Indeed, they are.
I am thankful, sad. Praising God for his goodness, and lamenting that this evil is seemingly going unchecked. I will enjoy my kids and grandchild, and be mindful of our friends, our community, our home.
This past season has been a continued invitation from the Spirit to let go of previous ways of being, to embrace vulnerability, living into our brokenness instead of denials and quick fixes. We’re being freed by the experience of God’s deep love, despite having nary a clue what is next for our family and friends in Ukraine.
His loving depths are dangerous, but oh, the resurrection freedom on the other side. It’s real!
Now if we can just to stay there, resting, embraced in our daily moments, sustained by the love of Christ.
I’ve been trying to teach Claire how to swim. I’m not sure a rock would sink any faster. She is quite a dense, sinking girl in the pool and no matter how many sessions we have, panic is in her eyes. The more she tries to swim, the faster she seems to sink. The water holds more easily those that rest in it, trusting that it’s working with us. She needs to learn to trust the water, and her dad!
Deb and I learning just how difficult it is to trust the love of God. Letting go of outcomes is a bit of a cross, isn’t it? As we let go, and embrace an unknown future to the possibility of a loving Creator, we sit sort of suspended. In this way, swimming, trusting, letting go, are all ways of the Cross, daring to believe and hope for the resurrection on the other side of surrender.
I think the Cross is a pattern, an invitation, a way of life. It’s not just a historical event. Each of us, called to embrace Christ, which leads inevitably to an opportunity to surrender. May his love flood us, keeping us from clasping the hands, and frantically splashing about in our circumstances!
This isn’t much of a practical update, but an encouragement to our friends learning to trust, again, like we are.
We’ll be in the US and Canada this December and January. We do hope to see you, to hug you, to laugh with you. For those of you we don’t get to see, thank you for journeying with us in prayer, solidarity, and your much appreciated generosity.
This past week, our family hosted a 4-day camp in the Carpathian Mountains. Locating next to Ukraine in central Romania was something I felt was important when the war first broke out and we were determining where to go. Being just 3-4 hours from a few of Ukraine’s borders has proven useful for serving transiting and refuge seeking Ukrainians. It was nice to hop in our van and spend only 8-9hrs total and be with our friends, versus the 16-20hr jaunt it takes from our home base south of Kyiv. Our friends took trains, buses and met us there. For some, it was the first time they’ve been away from home since the invasion, and was a deep, meaningful time for us all.
I enjoyed watching the kids, each day, get up bright and early with a sense of play, and anticipation for the day. They all really bonded well, and it blessed my heart to hear them all laughing, and talking in Ukrainian again. There were some cats and kitties about, so Claire was in her glory trying to grab hold of one, if they let her.
We’re now all back, and about to head for a week, just Deb and I, to an isolated, warm place. It’s been over 2 years since we’ve been away, just the two of us for some R&R. We really look forward to it, yet, there’s a nagging sense of guilt, which accompanies missionaries more than most ‘vocations’, that we shouldn’t rest, or take care of ourselves. I am learning that nagging sense is rooted in a false way, an unhealthy part of me that cares too much what people might think. I’m thankful to get away, thankful in light of my dear friends who can’t. We rest and take intentional steps to bond, reflect, pray, sleep, because we embrace our limitations, and trust in Jesus to restore us that we may enjoy more rewarding fruit.
I don’t like leaving our little girls. They are a treasure, and without family here we’re entrusting them to the oversight of some of our female friends here. The boys are old enough technically to watch them, but watch is about it, they are so easily lost in their worlds, still lacking in maternal instincts 🙂 So Lord watch over our girls, and allow Deb to drink deep of some solitude and prepared food, no dishes, and nearness of the Spirit.
When we return, we’ll be back for just a week before Deb heads off to Spain to complete her final bend in her spiritual direction course. She’ll be 10 days there, with her friends she’s journeyed with for the past 2 years, then back for a week with us in Romania, then we’re off to the US. It’s an autumn of travel, and leads us into a winter of unknown, sort of.
In December we’ll be at our house in PA, connect with our older kids, head up to Canada to see my parents -the first time we’ve been back for 2-3 yrs, all the covid nonsense finally lifted so we’re looking forward to seeing my brother’s families, parents, and extended family for a short visit, and mother’s cooking of course 🙂 Then we’ll head down to Florida 2nd week of January for a week with Deb’s side, and a 50th anniversary gathering for her parents. It’s one of those events you feel won’t happen again, everyone is growing up, families developing families, life just evolves so quickly doesn’t it? We hesitated before changing all our plans to head back to the US this winter, but then realized this is truly a once in a lifetime type gathering, to honor and bless Deb’s parents.
Deb and I have decided to step down from Mir this past month. We stepped into this director role sort of without thinking about it. A charity is a huge blessing to have as a missionary, until it isn’t. Swamped in life over here, and still wearing the hat of US responsibility and vision became a burden this past year. We sense change, deep life chapter type of change and we’re still not entirely certain where we will land, and what we’ll be doing, and when. Yet, we feel peace, after a lot of wrestling, that the Lord has been growing us, forming us, to bring something meaningful in this new season. Regardless of the Ukraine situation, our roles have changed, and we now come alongside more, serving from underneath, resourcing, listening, praying with.. We came away from this retreat with deep gratitude that the Lord indeed takes care of the seeds, the investments of love and friendship. All is not lost inside Ukraine, just changing, and we can trust the divine orchestration of the Spirit.
In the meantime, we have a lot of travel coming up, and decisions unfolding. Thankful for life, and the goodness of God all around us, in us, and emerging even in spaces of suffering in Ukraine.
